Of Gods and Kings
by monsterXmash
Summary: After Alexander gets married, Hephaestion finds a lover of his own. ::: Hephaestion/OFC
1. Decadence

**Of Gods and Kings**

Chapter 1: _Decadence_

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><p>After Alexander gets married, Hephaestion finds a lover of his own. ::: HephaestionOFC

((_Note_: This first chapter is revised. I am studying medieval alliterative literature and thought this style would be good for a period piece such as this. Hopefully it will get better with practice. Please let me know if I should continue. Enjoy!))

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><p>The late King Darius had a fancy for the decadent, and so Alexander desired the gilded and glamorous as well. Purple plumed peacocks strolled in and out of rooms while giant gem-encrusted tortoises glimmered in light, slowly mingling among the guests. Marble fountains spouted clear, cool water in every chamber of the palace with clusters of curious and colorful flowers encompassing them, constructing indoor oases wherever one wished to walked.<p>

The wonders of the wedding were so appealing that it had continued late into the night, even after Hephaestion's energy waned. He had made merry with the other gracious guests, feasting upon the multitudes of meat and mead until he could no longer feign mirth for the new couple. He stumbled displaced and desolate through the fair folk, head throbbing in tempo with the music.

Once in his quarters, Hephaestion quietly closed the door and cut out the noise from the celebration below. He longed for ever-lasting sleep to mend his wounded heart, but he knew that the much pined for peace would not come that night. He shrugged off his rich Persian robe and let it fall heavily in a heap to the floor.

"What a masterpiece thou art," spoke a soft voice, words sharp and steady as though the common tongue was a late-learned language. The speaker stood from the general's bed, a violet robe smooth and silken covering her otherwise naked body. Slowly she walked towards Hephaestion, the train of her garment dragging across the ground, a golden wine cup in hand.

The surprised Hephaestion said nothing to her, only stood stoic and silent as a general would while she advanced upon him. The man was beautiful, thought she, broad and regal, more a king than a soldier. A prince without peer among all the other paltry men of the palace. How his hazel hair framed his face like a heavenly halo! How his lips longed to be loved! His body was tight and taught, the scarred flesh telling silent stories of his heroics. His eyes, bright blue and bewitching, bore down on the woman as she walked.

"Wine," offered she, holding up the glittering goblet to the general. Her nails were glazed with black and glossed with lacquer. Her fingers richly covered in costly rings and colored jewels. _Darius truly loved the decadent_, Hephaestion mused.

"I fear I have indulged too much already," quoth the man, incredulous of his visitor's intentions. So she rested the rejected glass at her lips, slowly drinking the sweet, sanguine wine.

Spoke Hephaestion, "Why art thou in my quarters?"

"I had longed for thy tender look all night," quoth the woman. "I danced for thee, but no notice was taken."

"I have eyes only for another," the man lied. Noticed her he did, and watched as well as he worked to ignore Alexander and his blushing bride. He recalled how her body moved without rest, how her hips swayed to rouse every spectator. Her ebony eyes looking through long lashes at him even as she danced with other men.

_Fairest is she of face and figure_, quoth a Persian patron beside Hephaestion earlier that eve. _Indeed, a creature of rare charms and enchantment. It is of no wonder why the late Darius wished of her to keep him warm._

"Eyes only for the king," said the woman knowingly, raising him from his reverie. "The reason for thy solemnity on this most spirited night."

A bitter bite that reopened the wound. How he longed to forget the days past and all that came with it. "Leave," Hephaestion commanded and turned from her. "Leave, let me rest."

"It seems as though I have struck a most resonating chord," spoke the woman. With a tilt of her head she listened for a trifle. In the silence of the room, music from the ceaseless wedding could be faintly heard. "The sound of it still rings in my ears."

Half-drunk and tired, Hephaestion was in no mood for trysts nor tirades. "Have thou comest here to taunt me?" he questioned.

"I come here for comfort," said she, seemingly hurt at his accusation. "Oh, Hephaestion! I had a mind to weep as I watched thee. Never before have I seen anything more beautiful." She braced the wine glass close to her breast as she spoke. "The splendor of sapphires, the strum of a harp, the juice of the sweetest fruit, nothing can compare. Paraded into the palace didst thou with thy men and I did not know whether I was seeing or hearing or tasting thee, thou overwhelmed me so."

Hephaestion eyed the endearing woman, doubting everything that he had the mind to declare to her. Her words were sweet but he was skeptical of their sooth. Was she not once Darius's lover, the ruler of all things gilded and gaudy and gleaming? What would she want with a simple soldier?

"The princess believed thee to be Alexander," continued the seductress, "but I knew thou wert more."

"He is thy king," spoke Hephaestion, shocked at her words.

"And thou art a god! And I but a wandering pilgrim while thou standst dazzling and divine before me. What else is expected than to worship thee?" She reached out, planning without pause to place a palm on his cheek, but he wrest her wrist before she could and spun her with ease. Placing his chest upon her back, he enveloped her throat with one of his hands while the other encased her body, ensnaring her arms underneath. The wine glass was lost in the fray and flowed at her feet.

Within her chest, her heart hammered. She admired his swiftness, his strength, how he provoked both panic and passion within her. Hephaestion leaned forward and buried his face in her hair. She smelled lusciously of lavender oil and hookah smoke. Her chest rose and fell roughly with each breath of wine and honey she respired.

"Doth thou loyally believe that his love matches thine?" she dare asked. The grip on her throat tightened and she tensed against him, but persisted. "He frolics and feasts with his fresh new bride. He will carry her to his bed this eve and thou art condemend to sulk without companion."

"And thou fancies to free me from my fate?" whispered he.

"Aye," she replied. "Do not deny thy disciple."

Hephaestion roughly released the woman and walked passed her, making his way to the bed in long strides and settled himself upon the plush pillows. His arms he threw over the back of the bolster and languidly he sat with legs parted. So commanding did he look that she wish to bear his every bidding.

"Dance for me now," he demanded. "Thou hast all of my attention."


	2. Blasphemy

**Of Gods and Kings**

Chapter 2: _Blasphemy _

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><p>Though music there was not in that quiet quarter of the palace, the Persian woman danced for Hephaestion in the most pleasing of motions. The general watched with wide-eyed wonder, his hard pretense wavering. The woman's hands gleamed gold and gemmed in the firelight as she raised them high with rolling wrists. Her hips hummed a secret ballad meant only for him and the sleek orchid robe swayed with her every movement. Fluidly her body flowed and fluently did it speak to the man with provocative and perfect parlance.<p>

She slipped the silk from her shoulders, covering the marble floor with a purple pool at her feet. She stood still as a statue of gold, naught but a length of pricely pendents covering her modesty. The woman smiled at him broad and bright as he summoned her with a curl of his finger to come to him. With a simple sway, she strutted to the man and sat upon his lap, knees on either side of his thighs so she may look at his face. His scars did not mar his beauty, but made him more handsome, the rugged roughness so juxtaposed with the soft slopes of his features.

She wished to wash the kohl from his eyes; to shower him with kisses; to comb his discheveled hair with her delicate fingers. She wanted to polish him with her touch and make him like new, allowing him shine and sparkle in all his splendor the way he could if only he did not have to bear such a heavy-hearted burden.

"Tender temptress," spoke he, "reveal to me thy rightful name so I know who to call upon in the days to come."

Quoth the woman, "Sadira, my precious god."

She laid a palm upon the general's cheek, stroking the stubbled flesh. His sapphire eyes, so stunning and splendid, gazed into her gray own, half-hooded with unhidden lust. The man's hungry hands, coarse and calloused, carefully caressed her thighs, her hips, her breasts with earnest. She whispered words of praise as he laid his lips upon her throat.

Sadira craved for him to claim her; to take her as his own with no thought of lost lovers. She recalled her deceased king and wondered if her present desire was displaced. Should she not hate the man that helped take him away from her? Darius was once her deity, but this night she gave tribute to Hephaestion. How she had forgotten her former feelings! Was this man factual and the foregoing king a false god?

"Hephaestion," spoke Sadira. His eyes, thought she, must have mirrored her own. Eyes she thought were so wonderful moments before, now looked world weary when he stared at her. His sorrow left her weak and willing to be anything he wished. Alexander she would be if only she could, coming to Hephaestion to ease his emptiness and reassure him with promises of love. "What am I," asked the woman as she gazed down at the wounded warrior, "who worships a god who worships another?"

The general spoke her in the softest of tones, stroking her skin as he did answer her inquiry. "A blasphemer," qouth he.

The woman removed herself from Hephaestion's grasp and crawled across the bed, laying herself upon the cushions. Sadira called out to the man for him to join her and joined her he did, clinging to her as he laid his head on her naked breast. She covered his hair with compassionate kisses, comforting him in her embrace.

Spoke Sadira, "Sleep, sweet seraph. Lose thyself to the land of dreams."

- Oo0oO -

The woman had stayed in Hephaestion's room until his smooth breath confessed slumber. Sleep off the wine, he would, and remember with fondness the next day of the past night's events or curse himself for his frailty. With a kiss of the cheek, she slipped from his bed and quickly adorned her abandoned robe. As quietly as she could, she shut the door behind her, and all that was heard in the silent hall was the soft patter of her own bare feet.

The sun was just beginning to rise, tinting the walls around her in a deep red glow. A dark figure slunk from the shadows of the hall, surprising Sadira in its swiftness. "Did he have thee?" spoke the spirit. She suppressed a scream as she turned to the figure, clutching at her chest when she realized who it was.

"Aye," the woman lied when she summoned the strength. "It is done."


	3. Gifts

**Of Gods and Kings**

Chapter 3: _Gifts_

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><p>How the whole palace awoke alone that morn! How the household sought comfort with their headaches and hangovers! Roxana had not heard her husband leave their bed, but the spot where he slept was chilled to the touch as she ran a hand over the soft sheets.<p>

And, though he slept soundly, Hephaestion, too, was lonely when waking. The only hint that yestereve was not a dream was a gentle humming in his head. He looked around the room, half expecting another person to be there with him. All he saw was propped up pillows where a woman once laid. The general removed himself from the bed and quickly retreated from his room without washing away the evidence of the night passed.

"Hark! Hephaestion!" called Alexander as he caught sight of his constant companion.

Quoth the general, "Thou art up early this morn."

"I could say the same for thee. But such news is not novel. Thy presence has always lifted the lark from its sleep."

"And thy revel could rival the nightingale," replied Hephastion.

With a soft sigh, Alexander smiled at the memory of the sensational celebration. When he and his queen had at last departed, the guests were still dancing and drinking with no desire to stop in any time within reach. "Aye, Hephaestion, was last night not glorious?"

"So splendid a ceremony, Alexander. Surely the gods had sanctified the union," spoke the soldier. "I sought to give thee something, but surely I succumbed to the wine."

Hephaestion quickly looked both ways down the quiet corridor and pulled his king behind a pair of draperies and through double doors, out into the Persian daylight. The terrace mounted over the foregarden, masked with a dewy morning mist. Bawls and bays could be heard from the beasts below, but neither of the men on the balcony noticed.

"It is but a humble token," quoth the general as he took the tribute out of his pocket. "A trifle," said he as he turned it in his hand so he could unwrap the gift from the textile that held it.

Spoke Alexander, "I need nothing from thee, Hephaestion." The king leaned in to leave a kiss on the other man's lips, but was merely met with his companion's cheek. He then nuzzled his nose in Hephaestion's hair, and whispered, "You smell of lavender, my love."

He pulled back to stare at the paramour and his present. Hephaestion revealed a golden ring with a glittering amber stone. How it burned bright and brilliant in the beams of the blushing sun! So ravishing and resplendent was the ring that Alexander was lost in rapture.

"In my passage to Egypt, I purchased it," explained Hephaestion. "He who sold it to me said that it was sculpted in an ancient age when man worshiped the sun and stars. Forever I shall think of thee as the sun, Alexander. And to the gods I do pray and I do plead that thy dream shall shine over thy empire, upon the earth that thou have seized in thy grasp."

The king placed the ring on his finger and received the man into his arms, pulling him into a tight embrace. The two remained this way for a short reign before Hephaestion retreated.

"Thou art a magnificent man," he continued. "Legions shall love thee, Alexander, but none so thorough and none so true. My love is deep and deathless and as definite as the dawn."

"Thou dost proclaim this as though thou art giving me parting gift," said his sovereign and the soldier simply smiled.

"Wear it always and think of me."

"Will thou break thy fast with me, Hephaestion? Come sup again by my side."

Quoth the general, "Nay, I have awoken anew, but still have no appetite as of late." Hephaestion opened the doors and disappeared behind the draperies, leaving the dejected king alone with naught but a glowing ring and his gloomy thoughts.

- Oo0oO -

"My lady," spoke Sadira as she entered her mistress' suite. "Thou hast sent for me?"

"Aye, come closer so we may commune," replied Roxana as she sat up straighter in her bed. "Didst thou take heed to where my husband has gone?"

"Nay, my queen. I know not where he went."

Roxana rose from the pile of pillows and blankets and bed linen. "The first morn we are married and he makes me wake alone!"

"No doubt he has duties he must attend to," spoke Sadira as she tried to subdue her queen.

Roxana slipped on a silk robe and stood over her vanity, viewing her weary visage in the mirror. She picked up a trinket and turned hastily to her handmaid before speaking again. "These men! These men will run me ragged! Didst thou see, Sadira? How they coddled and clutched each other!"

"Mistress?"

"Cleitus and Cassander!" said the queen as she strode towards the woman. She stroked her companion's hair and placed her hands softly on her shoulders. She then turned her servant and slid a necklace around her throat. Sadira picked up the pendant and marveled at its magnificence. The shimmering sapphires did remind her of something. So beautiful; _bright blue and bewitching_. "I gave thee a simple task, yet it seems as though thou cannot manage. Tell me now, should I find someone new?"

"Nay, my lady. I shall try harder."

Spoke the queen with a smile, "I hoped thou would."


	4. Treason

**Of Gods and Kings**

Chapter 4: _Treason_

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><p>"My fair Hephaestion!" spoke Cleitus as he settled a stout arm around his companion's shoulders. "How this friendly wine flows so freely this eve!"<p>

"I envision thou dost hold it in enough esteem for everyone," Hephaestion replied, trying to discreetly shrug the drunken man's arm from his shoulders. The black general let out a loud bellow and struck a hard blow to his comrade's back.

"The drinking! The dancing!" quoth Cleitus. "These women with their delicate wonders." Without having to ask, his wine glass was once again filled by a passing attendant. Hephaestion courteously waved her off before his consort could receive more.

Amidst the applauding crowd, Alexander arrived in the high hall with his new bride. The reigning royals were a sight to behold, ravishing and resplendent, adorned in the native attire. The only remnant left of the Macedonian monarch was the gilded, golden-leafed laurel laid as a crown across his head. Now, he was the great Alexander - the Empirical Emperor, Ruler of all Realms, conquering King of everything in creation.

Roxana strolled beside her sovereign, as solemn as he was spright. But how she rightfully radiated her queenly regality. How breathtakingly beautiful she was under her brilliant diadem of diamond baguettes! Hiding her hair was a sheer silver veil, weighted with mirrored charms. Covering her body was a pleated robe of ruby red silk, brighter than the radiant sun. Surely all would know her as royalty this night.

Sadira closely followed her lord and lady, drawing observers who happened to overlook the queen. Upon her hair she wore a peacock plume headdress of fanned feathers so high and heavy that it stood above all in the room. Around her neck was a gem-encrusted collar covered in glowing emeralds, glittering and gleaming in the firelight. Her garment was as spun gold, shimmering as she sauntered beside the boy Bagoas, almost as sublime and stately as she. They stopped behind the royals, inviting people to stare at their sculpted splendor.

Quoth Hephaestion, "Forsooth, my eyes have been opened since we embarked on this expedition."

"They aid thine eyes, Hephaestion?" spoke Cleitus as he turned to the soldier. He almost seemed sober as he stared, his serious expression startling the other man. "Their aesthetics they give us and in exchange, we entrust them with an army."

With a furrowed brow, Hephaestion brought himself closer to his companion. His face was fiercely flushed, but whether out of fury or shame, Cleitus did not know. "Alexander does dedicate himself to the army."

Cleitus raised his half-full glass to the general, grinning as he did. "And I therefore dedicate myself to the drink," spoke he as he placed the goblet to his lips and finished it in a single swallow. He then looked over the the beckoning Cassander and went to the man without another word.

Alexander and Roxana lounged upon a chaise at the front of the chamber, the king chatting with his Persian guard. Atop the dais that held the dynasts, the woman whispered to her handmaiden, bidding Sadira to take leave of her. Hephaestion watched as she descended the small stairwell, acquiring a decanter of wine from an attendant, and walked to couch where Cleitus and Cassander sat, glad and laughing gaily. He observed her offering them more drink, which they could not easily deny. She spoke something and they smiled, then held out a hand to the older officer.

The wine was abandoned to Cassander as he sat covetous and companionless, looking after the departing couple. Roxana watched the traveling twosome as well, but they disappeared into the crowd so completely that all parties lost track of them.

"Cleitus," spoke Sadira after her and the man arrived in a small, silent room, "art thou composed?" Said soldier nodded his head in affirmation as she continued. "My lady wishes me give thee this tribute. The truest token of love says she."

Upon a chain was a copper coin, carved into it an eye of Persian cut. An ancient antique it looked, eroded but enduring, the engraving so embedded that it seemed newly etched. Sadira clutched it by the chain so the pendant was presented in front of the man. Quoth the woman, "Her explanation is more eloquent than mine, but the expression is all the same."

"I can not accept it," Cleitus replied, so Sadira obtained his hand and placed the ornament in his palm.

"Be not noble this night," said she. "Heed my words: be but humble. Humor her with thy humility."

The general gripped the necklace in his grasp, then granted the woman her request. He slipped the chain over his head and let the coin fall on his chest. "A token of my treason," spoke Cleitus. "Anon I shall be a traitor tried for his crimes."

She picked up the pendant, pondering it for a moment, then placed it back down. "We all must do work we do not wish," spoke Sadira sadly, sympathizing with the general. Her arms found their way around the man's neck and pulled him into a hug. "Wear it well," she whispered, "and reap thine rewards thou so deserve."


End file.
